Highlander's Return

by Hildie McQueen

  The injured man's eyelids lifted, the sluggish movements caused by the Laudanum the doctor must have given him.

  "Aye," Liam replied. "Barely."

  "How do you fare?" Conor felt the man's face, glad his skin remained cool to the touch. A good sign.

  "The bastard ran me through," Liam scowled. "Bastard."

  "No doubt he's also being doctored tonight," Conor told him, as Liam had reciprocated with a slice into the man's arm. "May even lose the arm."

  Liam’s soft chuckle was followed by his head lulling to the side.

  "Conor?" Dugan's head pushed through the tent entrance. "I must speak with you."

  "Aye, and I with you," Conor told him, and stood. "Sleep well, Liam." He pressed his hand against the now-sleeping man's shoulder.

  Conor followed his large cousin to the cart. Dugan always slept on the wagon, refusing to slumber in a tent. No matter that he became a ready target, the giant insisted he'd thwart an attack, claiming to be a light sleeper.

  "Why did you bring the whores?" Conor asked without preamble. "We have not been here long enough to warrant it."

  Conor shrugged, "I asked Calum and he agreed. Besides, it seems that the men are bored." Dugan scratched his chin. "Why does it seem more like a picnic than a battle?"

  "You brought four whores, only three went into the tent," he ignored Dugan's question and motioned to the tent where he'd seen the women enter. "What do you suppose happened to the fourth?"

  "She's in your tent," Dugan replied, his voice flat. "If the Englishwoman went to such lengths to be with you, who am I to prevent it." He continued, amusement in his eyes, "It seems Miss Westcott is quite besotted with you."

  "You will take her back with you tomorrow. As well as Adam, his wife is about to give birth."

  "A man does not leave the battlefield for such matters." Dugan's eyebrows pinched together. "Why would you allow such a thing?"

  "As you stated earlier, this is nothing more than our cousins and the McNeils, arguing over some cows that wandered into McNeil lands."

  Dugan slid his gaze across the expanse of land toward the other clan's domain. "I am to travel to see the McNeil at daybreak; I will take the two with me on my return."

  "As long as you do."

  "The matter with the McNeil will affect you," Dugan told Conor, and looked toward his tent. How do you feel about Miss Westcott?"

  Conor was taken aback. He and Dugan were close. As cousins, they grew up together, and shared much over the years. Women included. He did not intend to share Victoria.

  "She is like none I've been with. I find I cannot get my fill of her," he replied honestly. "I may take her with me upon my return, move into my own keep with her."

  "Marry her?" Dugan asked.

  Conor narrowed his eyes at the man before him. "Why do you ask?"

  After digging in his pouch, Dugan pulled out a parchment. Conor recognized Calum's seal upon it. What did his brother, the laird, plan?

  "It's a betrothal request between you and the McNeil lass, Lisbeth."

  Air left his lungs. Being the second in line to lord over the McDougall clan, it seemed his duty finally came and claimed him. Conor could only stare at the parchment, not wanting to believe the time had arrived. Not now.

  He looked back toward his tent. "Dugan, can you delay?"

  "How long?"

  "Just another day. I must think on this. Accept it."

  "There is more," Dugan told him, placing his hand on Conor's shoulder in a show of support. "Calum intends to marry off Miss Westcott."

  "To whom?"

  Dugan's amber eyes met his. "To me."

  ****

  Where had Conor gone off to? Victoria sat on the cot, her legs pulled up against her chest. She'd been there for hours, not daring to go outside, except once in a dash to relieve herself, returning without delay.

  She could not stroll about in her current attire. She'd not thought to bring something less colorful along, and was now forced to remain inside Conor's tent until his return.

  Finally, the tent flap lifted and Conor entered, his eyes immediately searching for her. He held two bowls of food and a bundle in a cloth, which he placed on a small table.

  Victoria's stomach grumbled, and she scrambled over to where he stood. Conor took her by the shoulders and looked down at her. "I apologize for not listening to you earlier."

  Her initial reaction was to lift her eyebrows, and then she lowered them and stepped back with a shrug. "Will you listen to me now?"

  "Aye." Conor looked to the food. "While we eat."

  They sat. He opened the cloth to pulled out some bread, which he tore apart, and placed a large chunk in her bowl.

  She sopped up the broth with a piece of bread and began to eat. The food was actually delicious.

  "Did you mean to tell me that Calum plans to give you to Dugan?" Conor's eyes met her gaze without expression.

  "I am not going to marry anyone. I am returning to England." She lifted her chin in challenge. "I am not part of your clan, your brother cannot force me to marry against my will."

  "He can," Conor said, and then took a breath. "I am to marry, as well."

  The air left her chest, and Victoria could only stare straight ahead. Was this really her destiny? His? To be married to others in a loveless marriage was something she did not plan to experience again.

  "Well you may not have a choice, but I do." Victoria pushed away from the table. "I will escape at the first opportunity. This is ridiculous." She stomped over to where Conor sat, and placed her hands on both sides of his face.

  "Is this what you want? To be in a marriage with someone whom you don't love?"

  He did not reply. Continued to look at her without expression.

  "I refuse, Conor. I was already in one loveless marriage and would rather die than marry a man I do not care for."

  "You were married? To who?"

  It was time for him to learn who she truly was. "I am not Victoria Westcott Conor."

  His eyes widened slightly but he waited, seeming to hold his breath.

  "I am actually Victoria Turner. You killed my husband, Lord Turner when you raided the house in England."

  Her breath held, she waited for his response. Conor stood and paced away from her, his head bent in thought. When he turned back to her, his expression was searching. "Did you love him?"

  Not the response she expected. "No, my husband was a cruel man who mistreated me horribly."

  He came to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I don't know what to say to you."

  "I understand your reasons for the raid and do not wish to speak of that right now. Tell me that you'll help me go home. Please Conor, help me." She placed her forehead on his chest. "I have strong feelings for you. I don't expect the sentiment to be returned, but regard how I feel about you enough to allow me to go, and maybe some day find happiness elsewhere."

  They remained, arms around each other for a long moment. Victoria looked up at him and for the first time since meeting him, Conor looked to be distraught. "I cannot go against my brother's wishes. He raised my sister and me. Calum rose to the challenge of laird at a young age, when our parents perished." He took a breath, and she laid her ear against his chest, enjoying his solid comfort. "I admire Calum. His decisions are always with thoughts of what is best for the clan."

  Victoria lifted her face, and he lowered, taking her breath away with gentle kisses, lips traveling from one end of her mouth to the other. He continued to kiss her, his arms not moving while he savored her lips. She opened her eyes and saw that his were closed, squeezed tight.

  It became clear. Conor was reluctant to let her go, but he'd not go against his brother's wishes.

  She slid her hands up his back and kissed him hard. The salty taste of her tears surprised her, as she didn't realize she cried yet again. Victoria pulled back. "I'm sorry, I must go."

  "Don't." His face was contorted, as if in pain. "Stay with me tonight."

  Yes, her
body screamed, but she hesitated. Was she willing to once again find paradise in his arms, only to be torn away?

  Her options were limited at the moment. She lifted to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her. "All right. I will."

  He pushed her blouse down, and her skirts followed, while she struggled to remove the clothing from his large body as well. Soon both were nude.

  Conor went to the cot and pulled the furs off, placing them onto the ground. And then He then took her hand and led her down to lay with him. He brought her against him, his hand sliding up and down her body, from her back to her bottom. His heated breath across her skin soothed as he held her without speaking.

  She slid her palms up Conor's back. The contrast of the smooth skin over his hard, muscular body enthralled her. Victoria traced kisses across his chest, flicking her tongue over his nipple when she reached it. His breath hitched and he arched into her mouth. She swirled her tongue over and around it, delighted at how responsive he was to her.

  His cock pulsed against her stomach, and she reached down to caress it. Conor pushed into her hand and she wrapped her fingers around it, allowing them to glide down the length of him.

  "Ah." Conor gasped, and pulled her face up, taking her mouth with his in an ardent assault of lips and teeth. At once his hands were all over her, his body taut, hardened by tension.

  Unlike their coming together anytime prior, this time Conor did not hurry in taking her. Instead, he held her and pressed kisses to her face and throat, each one separate and slow. His large hands kneaded her breasts, and he bent to kiss each, his tongue flat, he laved her.

  One knee pressed between her legs, he positioned himself between them. Once settled, he lifted to his elbows and looked down at her. "Why do I feel that I cannot let you go?" He asked, his brows drawn. "I find it imposible to think of you with Dugan or any other."

  Victoria did not reply, not wishing to break the spell his admission brought. Instead she maintained eye contact and slid her hand down his ripped stomach and then reached between them and took him in hand again.

  Conor closed his eyes and let a breath out. "Guide me to you."

  She placed his hardness against her entrance, and he pushed into her with one fluid motion.

  He pulled her legs up around his waist, lifting her so that he kneeled between them. With his hands on her waist, his eyes locked on her, he pumped in and out, his movements quick and hard.

  Victoria fought not to lose control when he tapped deep inside her, threatening to send her to oblivion faster than ever before. She could only hold onto his arms and stare into the blue depths of his long-lashed eyes.

  Each of his features were perfect to her; she slid her gaze up from the cleft at his chin, to his full lips and sculpted nose. He'd closed his eyes now, lashes fanned down over his strong cheeks.

  His hands held her hips tighter and he began to thrust faster, soft grunts escaping his lips.

  Victoria cried out, no longer able to hold back. She pushed up against him when her walls constricted around his hardness.

  He continued pumping with vigor, his face now contorting with the exertion.

  "Ahhh!" Conor called out, and he too, lost control.

  His arms encircled her and he kissed her face s slipped out of her. Victoria held on to him fighting the urge to cry once again, but nonetheless a soft sniffle escaped.

  Worried eyes met hers. "Do not cry Victoria, I do not want to be the cause of our tears."

  "I'm sorry," she replied and pushed her face into his neck. "I will not weep."

  "There is something I must do." His lips pressed tight, eyebrows drawn, Conor stood and began to dress. Without speaking, he left the tent, while Victoria sat in the center of the furs and wondered where he went.

  Moments later, hooves sounded. Victoria grabbed her clothes and began to throw them on.

  Face flushed, Conor entered the tent. He wrapped her in the furs and lifted her from the floor. With a grim set to his jaw, he carried her to the tent's entrance.

  "Where are we going?"

  Every bit the hardened Highlander again, he did not reply, but threw Victoria upon the horse, then mounted behind her. He guided the steed to a cart and called out.

  "Dugan."

  Furs moved, and the huge Scot sat up, rubbing his eyes. He gawked at them, then his eyebrows hitched. "What are you doing?"

  "Tear the missive to the McNeil to pieces," Conor told him. "I am riding to town. At daybreak, I will marry Miss Westcott."

  Not waiting for a reply, Conor urged the horse to a gallop. Victoria remained silent, cocooned in the warmth of the furs between Conor's arms.

  A long while later, they finally neared what looked to be a small farmhouse. Conor slowed the horse and guided it to the rear of the dwelling.

  He lowered himself, then pulled Victoria down from the horse.

  "What do you intend?" Victoria struggled out from the furs and attempted to straighten her clothing. "Have you gone mad?"

  Conor laughed and pulled her to him, kissing her fully before releasing a startled Victoria. "Mayhaps I have because I've decided you are right, I have avoided marriage because I do not want to spend the rest of my life with someone I don't care about."

  Victoria nodded. "So you are taking me to my brother?"

  "No." He went to his knees before her and took her hands in his. "Marry me, Victoria. I have strong feelings for you, as well. I propose we fall in love."

  Tears sprung to her eyes and she cupped his face with her hands. "I accept. However, I fear I'm ahead of you at falling in love."

  Conor stood and embraced her. "Perhaps not too far ahead, Miss Westcott."

  He tipped her chin up to her, and they kissed until her knees threatened to give out.

  "My brother will not be happy." She smiled up at him.

  "Aye, neither will mine." Conor shrugged. "They will have to accept our decision."

  A lamplight flickered on in the house, and Victoria looked at Conor. "Who lives here?"

  "A friend. He is a priest. Quite staunch in his beliefs, actually. Therefore, I am sure he will marry us upon finding you and I in a compromising position in his stables." He scooped her up and ran toward the wooden edifice behind the house.

  Victoria laughed. "I love you, Conor."

  "Take your clothes off immediately and show me how much."

  A hoarse voice sounded. "Who goes there?"

  The End

  ###

  Read the next in the Highlander Temptation series, Highland Desire (Book 4); Cailyn McDougall and Jamie Westcott reunite!

  Highland Temptation Series

  Highlander's Captive

  Highland Temptress

  Highlander Returns

  Highland Desire

  Thank you for reading Highlander's Return, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this novella. Be sure to visit my website http://www.hildiemcqueen.com for more information all my books and to see pictures I took while visiting the Highlands of Scotland.

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Highlander's Return

  Highland Temptation Series